7 Minutes in Heaven
by thepearlinyourpocket
Summary: In a high school party, Peeta agrees to play the 7 Minutes in Heaven game so he could finally talk to Katniss and explain how he feels. Everlark AU.


_Is that real?_

Everyone sitting around us start to say "ooh" and "now things just got interesting", but I still can't move. I'm probably making things more uncomfortable by standing still and getting increasingly red cheeks – I mean, wasn't that the precise reason I agreed to join the 7 minutes in Heaven game, so I could get selected with Katniss? Yes, it was. But things just got too awkward because it was her spinning that got me. Right now she's got her lips pressed in a thin line, and she's getting red cheeks also - probably because she's irritated with herself.

Katniss doesn't stand me.

Ever since she entered the school, I knew she was different. Good different. With those beautiful, unique eyes that I still haven't managed to paint so shady - but still shiny and grey - in my drawings, and that intricate braid that was always falling perfectly over her left shoulder, she made me a goner before I could get a second look. So I had to make a move, but apparently, I'm as stupid as infatuated.

'_She is even more beautiful today, wearing this sunset-orange top. I'm gonna talk to her.'_

_I tell Finnick that I need to ask Mrs. Trinket if I can use the colors I'm thinking about in the drawing we have to hand in tomorrow, and although he's full of doubt – "Come on Peeta, the lady loves everything you draw, is that really necessary?" – I'm already two steps away. Transposing almost half the hallway, I reach Katniss, who is alone by her locker. When she finishes doing whatever she was doing, she closes the door and is frightened by the sight of me. Just because she wasn't expecting me, I hope._

"_Hey" I said, maybe too excited already. She says nothing. "So… I was going to ask why a girl like you is standing here alone, but I guess it's because orange doesn't regularly suit people so well."_

_Oh God, that wasn't supposed to sound like that. She shots her eyes open and while her cheeks get slightly red and I want to make emends but she's already talking:_

"_What?!"_

"_No, I mean-"_

"_Did you come here to make me feel bad not only about my choice of clothes but also because it's so lame I don't have any friends?"_

"_No! No, I meant that you-"_

"_That I'm pathetic as hell. Excuse me."_

She walked away and I was so devastated I didn't even follow her. How could I've blown up things entirely? It was supposed to be a compliment. Orange doesn't suit people so well, but it suits her - everything suits her. And girls don't like competition, that's why she would be standing alone. Argh, that was an awful idea. It was better if she just didn't know I existed, but now she hates me – and because she thinks I don't like her! It was the worst idea.

After that day, I never managed to talk to her again, either because she was never alone or because I was too afraid I would blow things up all over again. I think she actually got a boyfriend in the meantime – that guy Gale, who was always by her side at lunch – but he wasn't at this party and I actually wanted to have a chance to talk to her. By the rules of the game, we would be forced to spend 7 minutes alone.

Had things been different, I would try to spend these 7 minutes in an entirely different way than talking. She is pretty and intelligent – I know that because of the number of classes that we share, and she's also hot as hell. Her skin looks so soft that I always wonder if it would shiver at my touch, and her breasts look so round and firm, they could probably fit my hands perfectly as I kissed those lips – oh, I wonder what she tastes like. Not only on her mouth, but…

"Peeta, aren't you gonna stand up?" I hear Finnick's voice, and when I come to myself, Katniss is up by the door of the closet, waiting for me. I hadn't noticed she was wearing such skinny jeans and I can't help but wonder how her toned legs and ass look like without them. I stand up hoping my groin isn't as stiff as it feels (come on, I fantasized for like, thirty seconds) and follow her inside the closet. This is one of my dreams coming true and I can't even enjoy it because she looks like a prisoner going to her cell.

Somebody locks us there and I guess is Finnick who says "Don't get too excited you two, it's only seven minutes. Although I think it would be enough for Peeta", and then everybody laughs. I'm glad it's pitch dark inside this closet, because I am so red it would be even more embarrassing.

Katniss haven't still made a sound.

"So…" I begin, but she has her guard up.

"We don't have to talk", she cuts me off.

She's standing in front of me, slightly to my left, while I am right next to the door. I can sense that she is tense, but this might be my only chance to make things right, and all I have are 7 minutes.

"You don't have to talk, but I do have something to say and I want you to listen" I say in a polite, but firm way.

"I don't think I have a choice on that" she says wryly. Right after, I sense her moving closer to the door, taping the surrounding area until she accidentally touches my arm. She yanks her hand back and asks "do you, um, think there is a light here?" and sounds… nervous?

"I prefer the lights out, if you don't mind." I mean that. I don't know the colors my face may get or how her deep mysterious eyes might affect me, so I think that if I can't see her straight, it will be better.

"Ok" she says after a moment.

Ok. Now it's on me. I just have to say… What am I going to say? I haven't really planned this, and I have to make the girl I'm nearly in love with forget I hate her and maybe, just maybe, start to like me. It's a fucking big deal. Even more because the only time we talked I was a total jerk, so much I haven't talked to her ever since, and in that time she most likely got a boyfriend.

"Katniss…" I begin again. She makes no sound as to interrupt me, so I continue: "That day I went to talk to you, I made it sound the opposite of what I wanted to say. I love that color of blouse you were wearing and I loved seeing it on you."

"That's not really what you s-"

"Please, let me finish."

She wasn't expecting me to stop her, I think, because she gets so silent it sounds like she's not even breathing. She is shifting from one foot to another, though, still uncomfortable, so I continue:

"I wanted it to sound as a compliment. Orange usually _doesn't_ suit people well, but it suits you well, because everything suits you well. You're crazy beautiful" screw my shyness, I think. She might as well know how a really feel. "And that's why not so many girls would want to be friends with you, because you would be considered competition – even if that is a stupid reason. Maybe they're equally stupid" I let myself nervously smile, "because you're really smart and all, so you know, everyone wants to be your friend."

I'm so glad we're in the dark, because I probably never felt so stupid before. God, please don't let me ruin things again. I scratch the back of my neck while I wait for a reaction, but she still doesn't make a sound.

"So, ah… That's what I wanted to say. I… I like you. And I failed miserably when I tried to make a move. Sorry for that." There, I said everything. For all I know, we might as well wait the rest of the time pass in silence.

I'm caught off guard when, after a moment, she says "Do you want to try again?"

What?

"Try… what again?" I ask. I don't need more subjects misunderstood.

She shifts, a little impatient. "Making a move" she says coyly.

I can't even believe this is happening. Doesn't she have a boyfriend? I guess I was wrong about that – apparently I'm wrong a lot when it comes to her feelings. How many minutes have passed? What can I do with my time now? Yes, of course I want to try that again, I want to try so many things with her… I just don't know how. And everything is dark; I don't even know what her face looks like right now. I can't even try to read something in her eyes. Does she want me to say something or _do_ something?

"Yes" I say suddenly. No more subjects misunderstood, I remember myself, and prevent the silence from getting too awkward. And because I don't have any more words to say after what I've spoken, I take a small step closer to her. She doesn't move away and I'm suddenly aware of how close we are. I feel like reaching for her hand first, but when I try, my right hand finds one of the coats that are hanging in the closet.

"Where's your hand?" I whisper hoping I don't sound pathetic, but her reaction makes me forget what I was thinking. She lifts her left hand and guided by the sound of my voice, she delicately presses my lips with her fingers. I automatically pucker them against her hand, and grab her wrist to kiss the back of it.

I manage to settle my left hand on her waist and with my other hand, I lower her left arm and make my way up, caressing her, reaching her shoulder, where I feel her shiver. God, that's already better than what I've imagined. I continue to her neck, cup her jaw and finally, touch her lips with my thumb, tracing her lower one. I realize she has her mouth slightly opened, as if breathing a little harder in anticipation, which only makes me ache more for her.

I slide my hand to the back of her neck, below her braid, and touch our foreheads before pressing our lips together. She reaches for my forearms and inhales strongly, so I take that as a hint to go on.

I slightly caress her waist while I take out my tongue to lick her lips, as if I'm asking them to part. She readily does so, so I slide my tongue inside her mouth and am fascinated with everything about it – the short moan that greets me, the movement she does in response, her taste, her warmth – everything is perfect. We continue to move our lips and tongues while she takes her right hand to my neck, as if to make our kiss even better, angling our heads in a new way. My left hand shifts to her lower back to press her closer to me, making me grunt at her pressure over my already hard cock, right before I unwillingly part out mouths to breathe.

She doesn't let me rest, biting and suckling my lip and pulling me closer to her again. I've only imagined Katniss corresponding one of my kisses so eagerly in my wildest dreams, so when she clashes our mouths together again, pressing her tongue against my lips, I happily let her enter my mouth and explore it as she wishes. Her other hand joins my neck for leverage as I notice she's standing on her toes, and my both hands rest on her hips as I undulate my body, pressing my cock against her belly. If it's too much, she doesn't let it show, so I tug in her braid, pulling her head back so I heatedly kiss and lick and suck on her neck.

"Peeta…" she moans, and it's the most delicious sound I have ever heard. I turn to face her and even in the dark, I know how swollen her lips are, how flushed we both are, and as I feel her panting on my cheeks, I make a motion to grab her tight and lift it up, but I'm stopped by a furious knock on the door.

"Time's up guys!" Finnick shouts.


End file.
